Kidnapped!
by EC Backer
Summary: When Italy is kidnapped by some of the American States, his brother Romano, Sealand, Canada, and a strange human must save him.
1. Chapter 1

_**Thump, thump, thump, thump.**_

The sudden noise awoke Italy with a start. He sat up, and realized he wasn't in the hotel he had fallen asleep in. No, this place was more cramped and stuffy. Looking around like a bird scouting its prey, he observed his surroundings, hoping for any clues that could help him figure out his whereabouts.

"Oh, its hot," Thought Italy, while sweat dripped off his brow, falling towards the ground.

Plop. The droplet made a sort of clanging noise, almost metallic. He wondered where he was. Obviously someplace evil, there's no pasta!, he thought. Italy pieced together all of this. His concentration was broken by the sudden rumbling of his stomach.

"Ho bisogno di cibo!" Italy whined, his tummy obviously not willing to bend its hunger so he could focus.

Alright, let's think, Italy thought. Its dark, cramp, and the floor is some sort of metal. As he finally pieced together he was in a car trunk, Italy sighed. Not again. He dug in his pocket until he found a small handkerchief attached to a stick.

"I surrender, Mi arrendo, Mi arrendo!" Italy screamed. He knew no one could hear him. Italy hoped it was a joke from his brother, Romano, but somehow he knew it wasn't.

The car jerked forward, Italy's head crashed into what seemed to be the door in the back. As the sound of the engine stopped, he heard voices coming from the outside. They were muffled but he could still make out that there were four of them, each with a distinct accent.

As the voices grew nearer, Italy felt his heart pounding through his chest, obviously horrified of the awaiting doom that faced him. Light flooded his eyes, and Italy could make out four silhouettes. Giant hands grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him out of the trunk. Italy's eyes, which had finally adjusted to the light, could now perceive the faces of his kidnappers.

Well, he wished he could see their faces. All of them were wearing ski-masks (cliche, right?) except for one. She was black, and sort of pudgy. The mysterious woman also had a pair of glasses and a spoon of some sort.  
"Hello, Italy. My name is Alabama," the lady spoke, with a very down home and soulful drawl that made you automatically feel safe.

Italy, who had been lulled into a false sense of security, ran at Alabama, and hugged her. One of the masked people took him by his waist, and pushed him back into the car. Italy, now confused about his situation, looked around.

Okay, so there's a gas station. And a desert. This isn't the Canadian hotel I fell asleep in, Italy thought. He had no idea how right he was.

Well people, thanks for reading my chapter. Oh yeah, translations

Ho bisogno di cibo- I need food

Mi arrendo- I surrender


	2. Chapter 2

(Romano's home)

Romano shuffled around his room, looking for his passport. He had to go pick up Italy at his hotel in Canada. Romano sighed, as the sound of a knock occupied his ears. He walked over to the door, and peered through the peep hole. Romano was surprised to see a small boy with blond hair and a sailor suit, standing nonchalantly outside the door.  
"Damn it…Sealand, what are you doing here?" Romano questioned, very annoyed with the present situation.  
"Hello, Romano! I thought you'd like some company on the plane ride to Canada!" Sealand replied enthusiastically, with his accent in tow.  
Romano pondered this idea, knowing any company would be good on the trip, even if it was an annoying country like Sealand.  
"Fine, but if you say ONE word on that plane, I will personally take a giant pile of merda and shove it in your mouth! Got that?" Romano retorted hastily.

Sealand, being completely oblivious to the vulgar words Romano was saying, nodded in agreement, and pulled two passports out of his sailor suit. One of which was Romano's.  
Romano sighed, knowing it was pointless to question the young country on how he acquired his passport. Instead, he just took it out of Sealand's hands and tucked it neatly into his breast pocket. Sealand flinched at the forceful movement, but settled down after he realized the Romano's intentions.  
"Well let's get going!" Sealand screeched, his excitement becoming apparent.

The airport was giant, but its size was offset by the number of people it held. So many different accents and skin colors were there, so Romano and Sealand fit in perfectly. As they waited in their flight area, Sealand made friends with all sorts of people. Romano was hoping he'd get kidnapped or something, but sadly, it was not to be. They boarded their plane about half an hour later, and were off to the wondrous country of Canada.

(Scene Switch. Gas Station with Italy)

Italy's head was still bruised from being in the trunk, so he could barely think straight. Everything was dizzy for him, and waves of nausea were rushing over him constantly. All of a sudden, he collapsed, falling to the ground like a rag doll.

Italy woke up in a cold sweat. He sat up and looked at his surrounding. He was in a very beautiful room. Classy paintings were hanging on the maroon walls. There was a nice mantel with a deer head looming over it ominously. Italy absorbed this, and got out of the bed. He walked into the hallway, where there were many doors on each side. Towards the end of the hallway was an open room, and a light was emitting from it. Italy paced slowly towards the light. As he turned the corner, he came face to face with a man. Not to bulky, but he was definitely bigger than Italy. The man had a slight beard, but only one that hadn't been cut for a couple of days. He was in a large green shirt with a white G on it, and some loose fit blue jeans that covered his shoes. Startled by this sudden encounter, Italy jumped back, slamming to the wall. Even if Italy couldn't see the man's face back at the gas station, he know it was the one who had pushed him into the car earlier.  
"Shush!" The man said hastily. "My name is Wisconsin. You must be Italy. Why are you out of bed, my short little friend?"  
Italy, taken back by this mans kindness, smoothed out his shirt and pants. As he finished this, he reached into his pocket and took out a tiny white flag.  
"I surrender! I surrender!" Italy screeched. Wisconsin picked him up, and put his hand over his mouth.  
"Do you not know what hush means?" he said, anger in his voice. Right as he finished his statement, lights came on from the once dark hallway. Three people stepped out from three of the doors. One of which Italy recognized as Alabama. The other two were new to him. Memories from the earlier day flooded him, and once again, for the third time in a couple of hours, Italy blacked out.


End file.
